


your heart is hot wired

by solarsailer



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Choking, Come Eating, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Trans Male Character, Trans Male John Hancock, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 02:08:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15741972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solarsailer/pseuds/solarsailer
Summary: “I want you to lick hisghoulcunt, Danse,” Isaac finally says calmly, eyes twinkling mischievously. Danse’s stomach drops, and Hancock breathes out hard through what remains of his nose. Danse can hear now how wet Hancock is as he pushes two fingers inside himself.





	your heart is hot wired

**Author's Note:**

> my sole survivor's name is isaac wakefield and he looks like [THIS](https://imgbox.com/g/Nuf7UMC9l1), in case you wanted to know what to picture when reading.

Danse is on his knees on the floor of the shack all three of them had built, hands tied behind his back with Hancock’s flag, tight enough to hurt slightly when he tries to move. Hancock is sitting on a chair in front of him, one hand lazily playing with his clit, the other splayed across his thigh. Isaac is on a bed to the left of them, wearing only his pants; he’s watching Danse and Hancock silently, and Danse can’t read his face.

Danse and Hancock are both naked, save for Hancock’s dumb hat. Danse’s nipples are hard from the chilly spring air and he shivers, both from the cold and the way the other two men are looking at him, curious and hungry.

“You look good like that,” Isaac says, finally breaking the tense silence. “Don’t you agree, babe?”

Hancock nods, rasps out an agreement; Danse can’t hear what he’s saying, his blood rushing furiously in his ears down to his groin. His breath is already strained and they haven’t even started yet. He’s both terrified and so worked up he’s shaking just thinking about Isaac and Hancock doing whatever they want to him.

Hancock nudges him with his foot, and Danse comes back to reality.

“Since Isaac’s the one who got this whole thing started it’s only right he gets to decide what we do, don’t you think?” Hancock drawls, black eyes glittering in the warm glow of the lanterns placed around them. “So. Go on, ask him what he wants to see.”

Hancock’s smirk isn’t mean but it definitely isn’t kind either. Danse blushes, and tries to look Isaac in the eyes but fails when the same kind of smirk is mirrored on his face. They wait patiently as Danse tries to get his tongue working, throat and mouth so dry; he swallows again, but to no avail. Following orders should come naturally to him at this point but this—this is so different from what he’s used to. He doesn’t know what to say, the words stick in his throat, his mind working at a snail’s pace and a million miles an hour at the same time.

“What do you want,” he swallows again, “me to do?”

The corner of Isaac’s mouth twists up, the skin around his eyes crinkling in that way that Danse is so fond of. He crosses his arms, eyebrows rising as he looks Danse over. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

His face heats up again, cock twitching where it’s hanging heavy between his thighs. He mumbles, “Sir,” and feels the blush travel down his neck to his chest, stomach in knots.

Hancock snickers under his breath and the shame of having _the ghoul_ laugh at him only makes him harder.

“That’s better,” Isaac says leaning back. He seems to contemplate for a while; Danse is sure it’s just for show, Isaac and Hancock surely planned this in advance, and from the way they keep looking at each other, smug smiles on their faces, Isaac knows exactly what he wants Danse to do for Hancock.

“I want you to lick his _ghoul_ cunt, Danse,” Isaac finally says calmly, eyes twinkling mischievously. Danse’s stomach drops, and Hancock breathes out hard through what remains of his nose. Danse can hear now how wet Hancock is as he pushes two fingers inside himself.

“Go on,” Isaac encourages, chin raised and looking down at Danse. He slowly drags his hand over the growing bulge in his pants, Danse all but mesmerized by his easy authority, and Danse wants to be good for him, he wants it so bad, even if that means he has to do _this_ to a ghoul. He isn’t quite ready yet to admit to himself that the thought of putting his mouth to Hancock’s dripping pussy, Hancock fucking himself on his tongue, makes his cock leak, nails digging into his wrists behind his back.

Danse starts shuffling closer between Hancock’s open legs, and he can smell him now, and it’s definitely different from anything he’s ever experienced before. Not really _bad_ different, he decides begrudgingly. He’s still not used to Hancock’s skin, leathery and scarred, but he’s about to become alarmingly intimate with it, and Danse is not one to back down from anything, no matter how terrifying it might seem.

“Like what you see?” Hancock asks and Danse realizes he’s been staring at Hancock’s cunt, and the shame of being caught sears in his head, tongue fat and dry in his mouth again. Hancock’s two fingers are circling his clit again; his breath shakes a little on the exhale.

Danse says nothing, just looks up into those black eyes again, and they’re crinkling a little at the edges and Danse—he realizes he’s starting to like that on the ghoul too. His head is swimming, precome dripping down his cock to his balls and forming a little puddle on the floor between his thighs.

Hancock spreads his lips with his fingers, and Danse’s cock pulses at the sight of Hancock’s hard and red clit. His slick is thick and white and Danse’s mouth _waters_.

“Don’t be shy,” Hancock says. “It won’t bite.”

Danse’s eyes go big and the damn ghoul just smirks down at him. He looks over at Isaac again, and he nods once, inclining his head toward Hancock, his body language saying _go ahead_.

“You’ve done this before, right?” Hancock asks as he slides down in his chair, getting comfortable. Danse just nods; speaking is proving near impossible at this point.

Danse spreads his legs, trying to find his balance, but his brain isn’t working at full capacity right now and he starts tipping forward, almost falling face first into Hancock’s cunt but he catches him with a hand on Danse’s shoulder.

“Whoa there, Soldier,” Hancock laughs and scoots a little closer to the edge of the seat. “I got you.”

Danse steels himself and leans the last few inches closer, mouth swimming with saliva. Hancock’s deep groan when Danse licks all the way from his hole up to his clit sends a shiver down his body.

“Yeah...” Hancock breathes, the hand still on Danse’s shoulder clutching harder, thumb pressing hard against his throat and Danse moans low against Hancock’s clit. His hand is rough and when he slides it closer over Danse’s throat, he leans into it. The feeling of Hancock’s hand on his throat grounds him, makes him calm down a little, and the way his fingers close a little harder around his throat every time Danse breathes makes him ache, cock rock hard and leaking.

The sounds Hancock makes spur him on and guide him; Danse is determined to make this good. Slowly licking Hancock’s clit with a relaxed tongue makes the sounds and breath catch in his throat, thighs shaking and hand gripping tighter around his throat. The same happens when he tries to push the tip of his tongue into him, Hancock rubbing his cunt harder against Danse’s face.

He’s making a mess, drool and Hancock’s slick all over his chin and cheeks. Strangely enough, he’s really starting to enjoy the scent and taste of Hancock, breathing in and feeling his stomach constrict, arousal washing through him. When Hancock’s hand squeezes his throat Danse buries his nose in him, loving how the lack of oxygen makes his head spin, how the control Hancock has over him makes his cock throb and his body shake.

It’s almost too much, his cock aching and he pulls away from Hancock’s cunt, gasping for air.

“I need—” Danse starts, shoulders shaking and wrists straining against his bonds, hips bucking up into thin air. He wants Isaac’s cock inside him, wants Hancock to sit on his face, wants _someone_ to just touch him already, before he loses his mind.

Hancock moves his leg and Danse barely ducks out of the way in time, Hancock’s knee almost knocking against his chin. “Here,” Hancock says as he slides his naked leg between Danse’s thighs. “Rub against me.”

Danse’s mouth falls open, just about to complain but he catches himself and instead does as he’s told. He’s desperate for a hand on his cock but this—humping Hancock’s leg like an animal—is as disappointing as it is arousing. He really shouldn’t think this is as hot as he does. The angle is uncomfortable and awkward, but the little friction he manages as he rubs up against Hancock’s leg is _heavenly_. He returns to Hancock’s cunt, sucking his clit and it makes Hancock gasp out a curse above him, thumb rubbing over his Adam's apple. Sweat is coating Danse’s skin, dripping from his hairline into his eyes; it stings a little but he’s completely absorbed in Hancock now, and how his cock is so hard it hurts; he’s pretty sure a stiff breeze could send him over the edge.

“You love this, don’t you?” Hancock manages between gasps. “Love the taste of ghoul cunt? So fucking filthy, _Paladin Danse_. If the Brotherhood could see you now...”

Danse moans against Hancock’s clit, hips stuttering against Hancock’s leg, thighs shaking and knees aching from the hard wooden floor. He can faintly hear Isaac grunt to his left, his hand working over his slick cock as he watches Danse eat Hancock.

“God, Danse, you’re just a slut, ain’t you?” Hancock says and slides his hand up from Danse’s throat into his hair. “Love when I ride your face like this… Love being used, yeah?”

Danse tries to nod but he’s shaking now, trying to rub his cock harder against Hancock’s leg, trying to get more friction. He pulls away to gasp for air, trying to get his head on straight again, trying to think through the haze.

“Hey! Why’d you—” Hancock tugs _hard_ at his hair, and that’s it. Danse is coming, moaning wetly against Hancock’s thigh as he spills all over his leg and the floor. He’s pressing his face hard into Hancock’s leg; he’s seeing stars and he’s shaking so bad he thinks he might fall over, if not for Hancock’s hand in his hair.

“...holy shit,” he distantly hears Isaac say and _yeah_ , he agrees. Hancock is rubbing his thumb softly against the soft skin behind Danse’s ear and _fuck_ that feels good, grounding him and gently bringing him down from his orgasm.

“Sorry,” he pants as he pulls his face away from Hancock’s warm thigh. When he looks up, Isaac—who apparently took the rest of his clothes off at some point—has gotten up and is standing next to Hancock, one hand on his shoulder. They’re both staring at him, eyes wide and Hancock has the smallest smile on his lips; it looks almost fond.

Danse’s heart stops in his chest, and he’s sure he’s blushing all the way to his balls nows. “What?”

“Damn, pretty boy,” Hancock breathes. “That was quite the show.”

“Fuck,” Isaac agrees, stroking his cock idly, thumb rubbing the head, and Danse really wants it in his mouth.

“Don’t get distracted by me,” Isaac says, fond amusement in his voice. Danse reluctantly pulls his eyes away from his dick. “You still have a job to do.”

“Yes, sir,” he croaks and warmth spreads through him when it makes Isaac and Hancock moan, almost in sync. Hancock pulls his leg out from between Danse’s thighs, his come dripping slowly down his shin and foot.

“You’ve made a mess,” Hancock says. “You’ll have to clean that up later.”

“Yes, sir,” he says again and when he meets Hancock’s eyes his heart skips a beat. The look on his face is open and he has an easy smile on his lips, not smirking like always before. Danse hopes his own face is mirroring the same feeling.

Before he has the chance to blurt out something embarrassing, Danse leans back in, smile on his face. Hancock sighs and massages his scalp as he starts working him over again, sucking his clit and his lips, swallowing as much of Hancock’s slick as he can as it drips out of him, thick and salty. He could stay down here all day, if that’s what Hancock wanted.

Hancock’s whole body is shaking now, his hand in Danse’s hair twitching and grasping at his head. Danse cranes his head and their eyes meet again. Hancock’s mouth is slightly open and Danse sees his throat bob as he swallows.

“Fuck!” Hancock drops his head back against the chair, fingers gripping Danse’s hair harder as Danse flicks his clit with this tongue, sucks harder. His thighs are shaking, trying instinctively to close around Danse’s head but Danse just powers through, keeps sucking and licking Hancock’s clit until he’s nothing more than moans and shaking limbs, and Danse feels a whole lot of pride in that.

“You close, babe?” Isaac pants and Hancock just hums, gripping Danse’s hair painfully hard, and Danse loves it. “Me too.”

Hancock’s moans get breathier and breathier until he goes quiet, and his whole body goes still before completely crumbling in on itself, Danse’s head getting buried between his thighs and stomach. Hancock shakes, whining and panting as the aftershocks go through him, Danse never pulling away, feeling his clit pound and twitch against his tongue.

“Fucking beautiful,” Isaac moans deeply and then he too explodes all over Danse’s face and Hancock’s stomach, come spurting in long strokes over them.

For a second the only sounds in the small shack are their heavy breaths and Skeeter Davis crooning something about the end of the world on the radio in the other room. Then, Hancock is laughing, low and wet.

“Damn!”

Danse looks up at him, then at Isaac whose eyes are doing that stupid thing he’s so fond of again.

“You could say that again,” Isaac says and now he’s laughing too, chuckling under his breath. He leans down to kiss Hancock; Danse can see their tongues meet and he feels a sudden pang of jealousy at the way Isaac cups Hancock’s head gently, how Hancock takes his hand from Danse’s hair to thread it through Isaac’s instead. He pushes that thought away.

His arms are aching from the angle they’ve been tied in for the last half hour or so, and his legs are starting to go numb. Isaac must notice him shifting around on the floor, trying to get comfortable, because he leans down and unties the flag and throws it on the bed. Danse shifts and now his naked ass is on the floor, and he’s sitting in the pool of his come. It’s uncomfortable but also strangely arousing. Isaac sits down across from him, leaning his head on Hancock’s thigh, breathing heavy and calm. Danse rubs at his aching jaw, his stubble soft and wet from Hancock’s come.

Then Isaac is leaning forward and his hand finds Danse’s cheek, thumb rubbing his cheekbone gently and Danse is about to lose it. The smile on Isaac’s face could melt ice, and then his lips are on Danse’s and his heart _hurts_ in his chest, hand shooting up to catch Isaac by the wrist. Through his love-daze he hears Hancock sigh, and then the wet sounds of his cunt again. Danse turns to jelly. He can feel Isaac’s smile against his lips and if that just isn’t the best feeling in the world he doesn’t know what is.

“You keep doin’ that,” Hancock murmurs. “I think I got one more in me.”

Danse moans and screws his eyes shut tighter, Isaac’s tongue warm and soft in his mouth, his blush rising again as he hears Hancock fuck himself, the wet sounds of his fingers in his cunt. Danse blindly reaches out with his right hand to grab Hancock’s thigh, but instead finds Hancock’s left hand, and they lace their fingers together in wordless acceptance. Hancock curses softly under his breath and grabs his hand harder, legs shaking again.

They keep kissing over Hancock’s thigh, sloppy and wet and _amazing_ , until Hancock is breathing hard and they tear away from each other at the same time to watch Hancock come again, two fingers deep inside, rubbing and thrusting hard in and out. The look on his face is pure bliss and Danse is captivated, wishing that was him inside him. _Next time._

When Hancock comes down from his orgasm his whole body goes limp, fingers slowly slipping out. His eyes are closed softly, his features almost looking delicate in his post-orgasm glow. His hand moves from his cunt to his stomach, moving some of Isaac’s come around that hasn’t dried yet. He leans forward a little, and he looks so relaxed now, his movements smooth and slow.

“Open your mouth,” Hancock says, voice wrecked and quiet. Danse instantly does as he’s told, tongue relaxed against his bottom lip. He startles slightly as Hancock puts his fingers on his tongue, salty with his and Isaac’s come, but Danse hungrily sucks them in, Hancock letting out a pleased sound above him, petting his hair with his other hand.

“Such a good boy,” he rasps, and Danse flushes, his softening cock giving one last twitch at the compliment.

Isaac looks up at Hancock slowly, grinning. “Told you he’d be good.”

**Author's Note:**

> (title is from tunnels, pt. 2 by joshua burnsides, a very good song and a very danse song, imo.)
> 
> i hope you enjoyed this! i had a lot of fun writing and i'm so excited to post this because i haven't posted fic in i don't know how long. depression + anxiety™ gave me like a 7 year writer's block, so i'm very happy i finished this. i love these boys a whole lot and i love them together, i think their dynamic is a lot of fun. hopefully i'll be back with more fics about these goobers soon, maybe not all porn? who knows though lmao 
> 
> ANYWAY i'm done rambling now, thanks for reading i love you


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